


I don't mind if there's not much to say

by SunshineAndaLittleFlour



Series: Brunch is [24]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bitty's all about that Dick, Blow Jobs, Dave is Regretting, Guess Who's Back, Jack and Bitty continue to laugh their way through sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, cozy sex, cuz I'm all about that, ha, tis the season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 18:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineAndaLittleFlour/pseuds/SunshineAndaLittleFlour
Summary: Bitty’s already wearing a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a sweater that Jack is fairly certain belongs to him, given the way it hangs off Bitty’s shoulder. He looks like the embodiment of Coziness, and Jack would snuggle up to him any time.“I bought hot chocolate for afterward,” Bitty says, sticking the note back in his pocket and bending over to fluff up some of the pillows, face still pink, eyes downcast, hiding from Jack. “And I figured you could put your sweats on, and I’d spread out the blankets and maybe turn on the fireplace? It started getting really cold last week and—”“It’s perfect, Bits.”





	I don't mind if there's not much to say

**Author's Note:**

> Y’ALL. Can I just start by saying the Biggest Thank You. I didn’t let myself go on ao3 while I was writing NaNoWriMo, so to come back to all these wonderful comments and kudos is just. I’m crying, fam, and I’m so excited to be back. You all have been so nice and patient and so, so lovely. So thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> This past month has been wild, both at work and in writing, but I’m so excited to be writing fics again. I missed my boys and all y’all, and while I can’t promise to not take another break ever, I think a month was a little too long to be gone. Luckily, apparently Ngozi and I are on the same wavelength because we returned within a week of each other, so clearly Jack and Bitty are ready to be back. 
> 
> That being said, who’s ready for nothing but ridiculous sweater sex for a month? It’s too cold to even think about being naked, so welcome to the frozen bone zone, where I write vaguely cold weather holiday related porn and pretend it’s festive. Happy candle nights!
> 
> Getting back into the groove of things has not been easy, I gotta shout out to my very patient, very wonderful, very encouraging beta powerhouse twistedmiracle, who patiently awaited my return and then proved to be The Greatest once again. Thank you!
> 
> This particular fic was inspired both by Jacquee ("Couch fort" prompt) and how fucking cold I am all the time. Just let me lay in my hedonistic blanket nest until winter goes away, thanks. I actually wrote most of this from my own little blanket nest, but instead of having sex I put on fuzzy socks and felt just as satisfied. 
> 
> Title from Sweater Weather, the ancient Shawn Mendes cover specifically

“What are you doing?”

Bitty’s hands go still and he glances up at Jack, cheeks pink. 

“Nothing.”

Jack steps further into the living room, which has essentially been dismantled, their couch shoved clear across the room. Their coffee table has been pushed next to it, looking like some sort of furniture Tetris game. There’s a giant mound of pillows, blankets, and cushions—including the ones from the couch—piled at Bitty’s feet. 

“That’s pretty clearly something, bud,” Jack says, and he can’t help but smile at how clearly flustered Bitty looks about being caught with a pillow pile. 

“I was hoping to get everything put together before you got here.”

“It looks more like you took everything apart.”

Bitty picks up a pillow and throws it at him. 

“I’m building you a love nest, Jack Zimmermann.”

Jack catches the pillow easily and tucks it under his arm, and he’s really grinning now. 

“A love nest?”

Bitty’s bright red now, but nods emphatically. “A love nest. Shitty approved, in fact.” He digs his hand in his sweatpants pocket and pulls out a note. He clears his throat, ever one for theatrics, and reads, “A soft time for soft boys, get it on in a cozy love nest.”

Jack eyes the pile at Bitty’s feet, and now that he knows what to look for, it is rather nest-ish. It looks like a place he would willingly crawl into, so long as Bitty is there to make it less like laying on a bunch of blankets on the floor alone.

Bitty’s already wearing a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a sweater that Jack is fairly certain belongs to him, given the way it hangs off Bitty’s shoulder. He looks like the embodiment of Coziness, and Jack would snuggle up to him any time. 

“I bought hot chocolate for afterward,” Bitty says, sticking the note back in his pocket and bending over to fluff up some of the pillows, face still pink, eyes downcast, hiding from Jack. “And I figured you could put your sweats on, and I’d spread out the blankets and maybe turn on the fireplace? It started getting really cold last week and—”

“It’s perfect, Bits.”

Bitty looks up at him and grins. “Go put your sweatpants on. And a sweater. I can’t be the only one bundled up.”

“I could just take all my clothes off.”

“Nonsense,” Bitty replies, but he licks his bottom lip and his eyes trace over Jack’s body. “That’s not nearly cozy enough.”

Jack does as he’s told, and Bitty lights the fireplace (wood, because Jack’s nostalgic), even though Jack has to dig in their kitchen junk drawer for several minutes before he finds their matches. It does add Something to the room, a little bit of heat, a peaceful crackle, both of which Jack wouldn’t mind as the backdrop to taking Bitty apart. 

“Did you take all the blankets from around the apartment?” Jack asks, settling in the nest, which is actually pretty comfortable. He wriggles a bit to flatten the creases in the blanket below him, then holds his arms out for Bitty. 

Bitty joins him, curled up against his side, face tucked against Jack’s neck. “No,” he says, breath warm against Jack’s skin. “I left the itchy one on the top shelf of the hall closet.”

“Because you couldn’t reach it?”

Bitty huffs and drapes his arm over Jack, poking his side. “No, because it’s itchy.”

A pause.

“And because I couldn’t reach it.”

Jack laughs and wraps his arms around Bitty, breathing in whatever Bitty had been baking earlier. Bitty always smells a little sweet, but this time of year he smells like spices and sugar.

It’s Comfortable and Warm and all kinds of Cozy, and Jack would be content just taking a nap, Bitty’s chest rising and falling against his. 

But then Bitty’s hand snakes down and rucks up his sweater a bit, and Jack realizes cozy sex sounds Great. Way better than a nap. Naps, comparatively, are the Worst.

“I don’t suppose you hid the lube in our love nest?” Jack asks, breath hitching when Bitty presses a kiss to his neck. 

“I did not,” he replies, sounding completely unperturbed. “But only because I planned on blowing you in the nest, no lube required.”

“Ah,” Jack says, as Bitty’s hand traces up his chest to his nipple, tweaking it. 

“That alright with you, sweetpea?”

“Absolutely.”

Bitty kisses his neck again, tweaks the other nipple, and then he’s gone. He settles between Jack’s legs with a pleased sigh, like there was nowhere else he wanted to be more than in a blanket nest about to suck Jack’s cock. 

And, Honestly, it’s exactly where Jack wants to be too. 

Bitty, despite being very insistent that sweatpants were mandatory for the love nest, promptly tugs Jack’s down his thighs and licks at the tip of Jack’s dick, wasting absolutely No Time. 

The air of their apartment isn’t exactly cold—the fireplace does its job, thank you very much—but it’s decidedly cooler than Bitty’s mouth, which is warm and wet and Truly Spectacular. Jack thinks if he were a poet he’d compose some sort of sonnet about Bitty’s mouth. An epic poem, maybe. A mouth to launch a thousand ships. A tongue to burn the world down for. 

“You’ve got your thinking face on,” Bitty says, nosing at Jack’s cock, breath warm against Jack’s skin, and Jack shivers. “Stop thinking so much, my blowjob is supposed to be blowing your mind.”

“Trust me on this, Bits, you’re definitely blowing something.” 

Bitty huffs and must decide that Jack’s too witty if he can speak because he takes most of Jack into his mouth and that’s kind of it. Jack is reduced to monosyllables and the occasional grunt. It’s probably all part of Bitty’s master plan. Moans, groans, and blankets.

It would be a great title for an epic poem, if Jack can ever get past, “God, Bits!”

Bitty rubs his hands down Jack’s thighs as he works, thumbs digging into the muscle, tongue tracing up the side, and really, Jack should have known when he walked in to Bitty wearing that damn sweater that an orgasm was inevitable. 

Bitty hums around him, like he’s enjoying this just as much as Jack is, and really, that’s what sends Jack over the edge, what pulls him close and shoves him past the finish line, reeling.

Jack throws his head back into the blankets when he comes, hands scrambling for purchase in the soft material bunched around them. 

Bitty crawls up, hips dragging against Jack’s as he does so, a lovely reminder that Jack gets to have his hands on Bitty, too. That Bitty’s turned on too, just from pleasing Jack.

“Hey there,” Bitty greets, resettling against Jack, his lips red and swollen. He’s lovely and Jack has to kiss him, drawing his thumb down his cheek as he does. 

He can taste himself, but he can also taste Bitty, and it doesn’t really matter, except Jack kind of thinks he could spend every minute of the rest his life kissing Bitty and it would be time Very Well Spent.

Bitty rolls his hips, and his sweatpants-clad dick presses against Jack’s side, a call that Jack can’t help but answer.

“Hey,” Jack replies, winded, and grinds the heel of his hand over the front of Bitty’s sweats, reveling in the way Bitty’s eyelids flutter.

“You could’ve worn the shorts,” Jack says, thumb rubbing the soft skin of Bitty’s stomach, just at the edge of his waistband. 

“That wouldn’t have been very cozy, would it, Mr. Zimmermann?” Bitty says, rolling his hips into Jack’s touch. “And—”

Jack squeezes and Bitty’s sentence dies. 

Jack traces Bitty’s waistband with his index finger and then tugs it down far enough that Bitty’s dick springs free, flushed red and just waiting for Jack’s touch. 

“We could get a pair of shorts in red and green,” Jack says, wrapping his hand around Bitty, delighting in the shiver it sends up his body. “Make them holiday themed. A bit of fleece, so they're cozy. Maybe a bow on the back. Something I can unwrap.”

“Is that—fuck, Jack—is that really what you want for the holidays?” Bitty asks, rolling his hips into Jack’s hand, which is still going at a leisurely pace, thumb skirting over the head. Like he has all the time in the world. 

Bitty tries to push his hips faster, to force Jack to move, but Jack keeps up his slow pace, reveling in the way Bitty’s face is flushed, Bitty’s breaths are hitched and wanting, Bitty Bitty Bitty. 

“It’s the best present,” Jack teases, and he’s only half joking. He can’t tear his eyes away from Bitty’s face, pink and open, his mouth a slick mess, lips swollen and lovely. His sweater has been hitched up a bit, exposing more skin, which is really just Intoxicating. It’s impossible how much Jack feels like his heart swells every time Bitty’s close to him. 

“My ass?” Bitty winks at Jack, although it turns into more of blinking, shuddering breath when Jack twists his wrist. 

Jack looks at him, really looks, and he realizes he can’t imagine his life without Bitty Right There. “You. You’re the best gift I could ever hope to get,” he says, and it’s the kind of honesty between them that makes Jack feel like Bitty Knows, that there must be something out there, some word bigger than love because there’s no possible way that Jack can Just Love Bitty. Not with the warm feeling in his chest and the way they fit so well together. Jack knows he More Than Loves Bitty. 

Bitty snorts, his face pink. “I guess I’ll just return those panties I got.”

The spell isn’t broken, Jack is still So In Love—so More Than In Love—that all he can do is laugh and tighten his grip around Bitty. “Let’s not be too hasty.”

Bitty laughs, breathy and sweet, and his fingers dig into the blankets around them. Jack ducks down and mouths at his neck, drags his lips across Bitty’s pulse point, brushing his stubble against the sensitive skin. 

“Don’t worry,” Bitty says. “They probably aren’t returnable, I got them on sale.”

“Please spare no expense on this matter,” Jack says into Bitty’s neck.

Bitty laughs again. “No expense? That’s a pretty extravagant statement for somebody who makes an insane amount of money.” 

“I’m giving you blanket permission to spend a large part of my insane NHL paycheck on the most expensive lingerie for yourself that you can find. Screw our apartment—our utility money should be going towards underwear exclusively.”

“You’re ridiculous and the NHL would not approve,” Bitty replies. “I would at least get a matching set, so we’d both have a pair.”

Jack groans and his dick makes a valiant effort to convince him that round two wouldn’t happen Too Soon if it happened right now. “That’s perfectly acceptable.”

He presses one more kiss to Bitty’s exposed shoulder and then slides down as best as he can, trying not to drag too many blankets with him. 

“You’re dismantling my nest,” Bitty grumbles, hands sliding into Jack’s hair. “And now you’re very far away.”

“I didn’t go that far,” Jack says, kissing Bitty’s hip bones, first one, then the other. “I just needed to inspect the rest of the nest.”

“And, mmm, how’s it looking?” Bitty hums as Jack peels Bitty’s sweats down his thighs and off of one leg, cupping his hands over Bitty’s ass. 

Jack looks up at him, one hand sliding up to wrap around his cock again. “The view from down here is scintillating.” He lifts Bitty’s bare thigh over his shoulder, and really, Jack should’ve known they wouldn’t need lube to get each other off. 

“Jack Zimmermann, do not use SAT words that close to my dick.” 

Jack laughs and presses a wet kiss to the base of Bitty’s dick before ducking further down to where he really wants to be. He licks across Bitty’s hole, the flat of his tongue warm and wet against his skin.

“Oh!” Bitty rolls his hips again, and his grip tightens in Jack’s hair, tugging just enough that Jack moans along with him. 

He narrows his tongue and presses in, gently, then pulls out again. He kisses Bitty’s skin, then turns his head and kisses his shaking thighs, before really Getting Down to Business. 

Jack, who knows for a fact he’s one of the best stick handlers on his team, and a pretty damn good scorer, thinks his coordination in eating Bitty out while simultaneously stripping Bitty’s cock is one of the Best use of his skills Ever.

And because Jack has, on more than one memorable occasion, eaten Bitty out until he (almost) cried, the love nest doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Jack!” Bitty shudders, and that’s all the warning Jack gets before Bitty’s cock is extra slick, before his whole body convulses beneath Jack.

There’s come in his hair, Jack can feel it. It’s probably on his sweater and in the blanket nest too, but he doesn’t care, because they both know how strong their washing machines are, and the nest is still just as cozy as it was in the beginning, even if it's significantly more ruffled now. And damp.

Bitty’s still sucking in air like he’s drowning, and Jack knows the feeling, so he crawls back up to Bitty’s neck and starts rubbing his stubble against him again. He’s a little hard, but it isn’t frantic, it isn’t desperate. It’s just there, because watching Bitty fall apart Does Things to him. 

“Jack, stop,” Bitty laughs, but his arms wrap around Jack’s shoulders. “I’ll have to wear a turtleneck to work.”

“Mm, those are cozy,” Jack replies and starts on a hickey beneath Bitty’s ear because he’s an Asshole who’s More Than In Love. 

Bitty laughs and they burrow deeper into the ridiculous blanket nest, wrapped up in each other.

“This might be a good new holiday tradition to start. It gets cold and we break out the love nest.”

“It hasn’t even started snowing yet,” Jack mumbles against Bitty’s neck. 

“Hush.” Bitty tugs a blanket over them, and their lights are still on and there is still very clearly a fire in their living room, but Jack thinks, looking at Bitty’s smile in the dim light shining through the blanket, there’s nowhere else he really ever wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Shitty: can I borrow a blanket? It’s cold as fuck, my dude.  
> Jack, thinking about how every single blanket they own is sitting in their laundry room, covered in a decent amount of Stuff: we don’t believe in blankets, I’m from Canada.
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
